


A Day Without Laughter

by AkashaTheKitty



Series: Death by Quill 2018 [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Healing, Hogwarts, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 19:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14983988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkashaTheKitty/pseuds/AkashaTheKitty
Summary: “I’m fairly certain I have a warmer relationship with the Giant Squid than you do with Malfoy. Now, don’t get me wrong, I actually like the Squid, but—”He was cut short by yet another explosion.“Are you quite finished being disgusting?” Pansy hissed once the noise had died down.George blinked. “Now that’s not very kind of you. The Squid is actually quite nice. If I had ten arms or preferred them in a partner, I’m sure he or she would make for a fine girl- or boyfriend. How do you tell a squid’s gender anyway?”





	A Day Without Laughter

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [TheSlytherinCabal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSlytherinCabal/pseuds/TheSlytherinCabal) in the [DBQ2018Round3](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DBQ2018Round3) collection. 



> Prompt was Silencio with Pansy Parkinson and George Weasley, maximum word count 3500.
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> Thanks to my long-suffering beta torigingerfox :)
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> **Many thanks to my poor beleaguered alpha/beta who's really not to blame for anything in this fic.**

 

There was an explosion.

 

The floor shook, and the castle walls on both sides of the corridor Pansy had been walking started crumbling.

 

Instinctively, she crouched down, her eyes darting in every direction.

 

Another explosion sounded, even closer this time. One of the torches behind her came loose from its setting and crashed to the floor. Frightened beyond belief, she started running. She didn't know where she was going, all she knew was that she wanted to get away from whatever was bringing down the castle around her ears. She'd almost reached the bend in the corridor that should bring her to the stairs and down to ground level safety, when out of nowhere a pair of arms grabbed her and yanked her straight through the wall into complete darkness.

 

She wanted to scream, she tried to scream, but a hand covered her mouth.

 

" _Silencio._ "

 

The hand was removed, but Pansy found herself completely muted. With a deep breath, she tried to contain the panic rising inside her and channel it into anger. After having some success with that, she stomped at what she assumed to be the perpetrators foot. When he grunted and stepped back in surprise, she elbowed him in the stomach. She was about to turn to give him a knee to the groin when he rather abruptly shoved her forward into the stone wall she'd come through.

 

Unfortunately it felt rather solid now, and she winced.

 

"I'm not going to hurt you!" he murmured, sounding surprisingly calm and friendly. "I just need you to be quiet."

 

She didn't buy that. She might only be fifteen years old, but she'd seen enough to know that men were quite often more dangerous than they seemed.

 

Especially men setting off explosions.

 

So rather than calm down, she redoubled her efforts, shoving back against him and flailing, probably hurting herself more than him. She felt the panic rising again, threatening to consume her.

 

" _Lumos._ "

 

Somehow he'd managed to contain her with his body and one arm and bring out his wand again.

 

"Look at me," he murmured, slowly turning her. "It's just me. Fred Weasley. You've heard of me and my brother haven't you? Dashing Quidditch players, comedic geniuses, every school witch's walking fantasy."

 

She shook her head.

 

"Wow, that's harsh. Is it my deodorant? I told my brother it was a bad idea to buy body odours from a place called _Eau de Poo._ He insisted it was a place in Germany like Cologne, but who'd want to live in a place called Poo? But then again, people live in places like Wetwang, Yorkshire."  
  
She gesticulated wildly until he finally lifted the silencing spell from her. "About time, you dolt. And you're _not_ Fred Weasley!"

 

There was a brief look of surprise before he smirked. "Then who am I?"

 

"You're George Weasley."

 

"So you do appreciate a truly handsome face! But then, there are only so many of us."

 

She gave him her haughtiest look. "Too many if you ask me."

 

"And yet you can tell us apart when so few can. I find that quite... interesting."

 

Her cheeks heated. He made it sound like she had some sort of romantic interest in him. Like she'd spent endless hours gazing at him, memorising the details of his face. She didn't! She hadn't! At first, all the noise and laughter had annoyed her. Then she'd become slightly intrigued by the way the twins positively radiated energy. And then... then she'd begun to see all the little differences between them. Subtle at first, more glaring to her as time went on.

 

So she might eventually have found herself charmed by especially George as he lived and laughed so effortlessly, but that didn't mean anything. It just meant he was slightly less odious than the rest of them.

 

There was however no way to explain that without widening his suggestive smirk, so she merely said, "Let me go."

 

"Unfortunately, I can't." Another boom sounded disconcertingly close. "See? You have to stay here with me for two reasons. One, we miscalculated and this area is not quite safe. Nobody was supposed to be here, so it was lucky I thought to check."

 

"Miscalculated what?"

 

"And two, I can't have you telling on us. At least not quite yet."

 

"I wouldn't tell anyone--"

 

"Nice try, Parkinson. You think we don't know exactly who we can trust around here? I'd trust a troll to come up with a cure for lycanthropy before I'd trust you not to tell on us."

 

She gaped for a second but then snapped her mouth shut. "You know who I am?"

 

"Yes, of course. You're always fawning over Draco Malfoy, who makes it a habit to be a nuisance to people we care about. You have a very poor taste in boys."

 

"I find my taste to be rather superior."

 

"Considering your fascination with the handsomest and most charming of the Weasley twins, I _would_ tend to agree with you if it weren't for Malfoy."

 

"You don't know him like I do."

 

"I'm fairly certain I have a warmer relationship with the Giant Squid than you do with Malfoy. Now, don't get me wrong, I actually like the Squid, but--"

 

He was cut short by yet another explosion.

 

"Are you quite finished being disgusting?" Pansy hissed once the noise had died down.

 

George blinked. "Now that's not very kind of you. The Squid is actually quite nice. If I had ten arms or preferred them in a partner, I'm sure he or she would make for a fine girl- or boyfriend. How do you tell a squid's gender anyway?"

 

Pansy shoved at him. "The jokes never end with you, do they? Everything is funny, even when it's not."

 

"Has it ever occurred to you that sometimes things have to be funny in order for someone to endure that they're not?"

 

While she was mulling that over, there was a scraping sound from further down the corridor. "Oy, George!" Fred Weasley shouted. "What's keeping you? It's time!"

 

"Coming!" George shouted back, but before he left he bent close to Pansy's ear and murmured, "Once your fascination with rich, blond gits dies down, you should try kissing a ginger."

 

He began walking away, but then as an afterthought turned back, "But none of my brothers, all right? Percy's a git, Ron's a baby, and Fred... well, he's Fred."

 

And then he was gone.

 

Belatedly, Pansy realised that he hadn't taken her with him and she didn't know how to get out at either end. She began fumbling along the wall, running her hands along the cool stones. A few steps to her right she could go through.

 

Breathing a sigh of relief, she stepped back into the corridor and began going back in the direction she had come from.

 

***

_Three years later_

 

A woman dressed in a stylish black dress, carrying a bouquet of lilies, carefully made her way along the gravel path of the small cemetery. When an elderly couple appeared on the path to her right, her one gloved hand discreetly tugged at the short veil hanging from her wide-brimmed black hat, while behind her thick sunglasses, she averted her gaze.

 

It would be clear to anyone watching her that Pansy Parkinson did not belong here.

 

Another few hesitant steps brought her to the plot she had been searching for.

 

_Lovingly Remembered_

 

_A wonderful Son and Brother_

 

_Fred Weasley_

 

_April 1, 1978 - May 2, 2008_

 

_"My pain may be the reason for somebody's laugh_

_But my laugh must never be the reason for somebody's pain"_

 

So it was true, then. She placed the flowers in front of the headstone and sat down on the nearby bench. She stared ahead, seeing nothing but the past. How the Weasley twins had been nothing but chaos, energy, and... fun.

 

She tried picturing George without his brother, and all she saw was his face as he'd looked at her in the secret tunnel. It was the only time she'd seen him without his twin. In spite of his flirty exit, they'd never even spoken again.

 

The twins had left that very day.

 

She'd snuck into their shop once. And there they'd both been, laughing, joking, showing off their merchandise. The old energy hadn't faded in the least, and they'd both radiated joy and happiness. He'd clearly forgotten all about the hidden corridor, and so she'd merely caught the desired glimpse of him and then left.

 

Things had become achingly dull. Not only that, but Draco had soon begun distancing himself from her. She'd been desperate to regain his attention in any way she could, but his distance had never been about her. It was about the stress he'd been under. Stress that had forced him to either bend or break, to grow and understand things that she'd only understood far too late.

 

She hadn't been in the battle. She'd been whisked away right at the beginning. Her family had picked her up and taken her on a prolonged 'holiday' abroad.

 

She had only just returned to Britain now, months later, to find that one of the Weasley twins was no more.

 

"Well, well, what a surprise. Checking to see which one went down, then?"

 

Pansy started. George Weasley was standing right before her. He was thinner, his hair was a little longer, and his eyes lacked the mirth she'd been accustomed to seeing there, but it was him in the flesh.

 

He was more handsome than she remembered, too.

 

She jumped to her feet to leave, but he put a gentle hand on her shoulder, pushing her back down.

 

"No need, Parkinson," he said, flinging himself down beside her. "It was a joke. A poor one. Many of my jokes tend to fall flat these days." He stared morosely ahead.

 

"You recognised me?"

 

"What, I wasn't supposed to? Is that why you're dressed like a vampire on the beach?"

 

"No, I just... didn't think you would." She slowly removed her sunglasses since they hardly served any purpose any longer.

 

"It has been a while. A lifetime." He stared ahead again, a tight set to his jaw that she'd never seen before. "So, what brings you here?"

 

"I heard... I heard about your brother. And I just couldn't believe it."

 

He sighed. "I still have difficulties believing it as well. Of course it doesn't help that every time I see my own reflection, he's there."

 

"I'm sorry."

 

He raised an eyebrow. "And I do believe you mean that, Parkinson."

 

"Of course I do."

 

"So how's Malfoy?"

 

"I don't know. You'd have to ask him."

 

"Ouch." His smile was cynical. "Wars do tend to be hard on relationships, I suppose."

 

She shrugged, looking down awkwardly. "Even Draco started avoiding me after I wanted to hand Potter over at the school. It was like I crossed some invisible line. But I was _scared_. I just wanted them to go away. I understand why others wouldn't find that forgivable, but..." Her voice trailed off but he remained silent. She sighed. "I understand if _you_ don't find it forgivable."

 

George pursed his lips. "There are two schools of philosophy in these cases. Sacrifice the few to save the many - what you and your house wanted to do, and the many banding together to protect the few - what the other houses wanted to do. Quite frankly, I was surprised that Ravenclaw didn't side with Slytherin on that one from a logical standpoint. But then, perhaps they felt that the majority would be lost if we lost Harry, which is also a likely scenario. He was our rallying point."

 

"That sounds almost... intelligent."

 

George grinned, although it didn't reach his eyes. "Not bad for a Weasley, eh? Don't worry about it. I'm done with hate. I don't want to live like that."

 

"Then how do you plan on living?"

 

"Laughing."

 

"Even when you're sad?"

 

"Especially when I'm sad. It's easier to endure how unfunny things are by laughing at them."

 

Pansy shook her head. "But when will you cry, then?"

 

"What does crying accomplish?"

 

"Dealing with your grief?"

 

"I deal. I laugh." He pointed to the quote on the headstone. "Like that."

 

Now she smiled wryly."I'm the opposite of that."

 

George was silent for a minute, then he said, "So was Fred. At least sometimes."

 

"Then why put it--?"

 

George shrugged. "We were looking for something to put on there, and Hermione--Granger, you remember her--brought me some quotes she felt might fit. I chose that one, only later realising it fit me more than him. Too late to change it now, I suppose. They all love it and that just makes me feel..." he fell quiet.

 

"Feel what?"

 

"Like they didn't really know him."

 

Pansy nodded. "He would've made for a fine Slytherin. Ambitious, cunning, ruthless and even vengeful at times."

 

"Bite your tongue!" It was said with no real heat, but also no humour.

 

"Oh, he was also kind and brave and all that rot. And funny, of course."

 

"Of course."

 

"But he was a bit clueless too, wasn't he? Like when he took Angelina Johnson to the Yule Ball..."

 

"What about that?"

 

"He didn't realise you liked her, did he?"

 

His lips quirked. "You know, Parkinson... sometimes you do surprise me. Just how closely were you watching us?"

 

"I simply wanted to be able to tell you apart."

 

"Well... no mistaking us now."

 

"Yeah, you're definitely the prettier one now." She immediately clasped her mouth with one hand. "Oh, Merlin. I'm so sorry, I--"

 

He threw back his head and laughed. "Good one! Fred would have appreciated that."

 

"I'm working on becoming more sensitive."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because being a raging bitch is not as fun as it used to be."

 

"Pity. I like the raging bitch."

 

Pansy shot him a dubious glance. "Of course you do."

 

He smiled and this time she imagined the corner of his eyes crinkled a little bit. "Kiss any gingers yet?"

 

She scowled at him.

 

"No? Waiting for anyone in particular?" He winked at her.

 

Her scowl deepened as she felt a blush spread across her cheeks. "The ginger supply is rather mediocre, although I hear your brother Charlie should be quite handsome."

 

"I thought I told you that you can't kiss my brothers."

 

"Mm, pretty sure you didn't mention Charlie."

 

"I'm pretty sure I did."

 

"Nope."

 

"You can't kiss Charlie."

 

"Why not?"

 

"He's in Romania."

 

"I like travelling."

 

"That's quite far to travel just to find a ginger when this place is drowning in them."

 

Pansy couldn't quite suppress her giggle.

 

"Ha! Got you!" He looked very pleased with himself.

 

She swallowed down her smile and gave him a stern look. "It's inappropriate. Look at where we are."

 

He leaned in conspiratorially. "Dead people don't care. They're dead."

 

"It's not about--never mind. _Silencio!_ "

 

He raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

 

"Payback," she clarified. "But I'll lift it when you stop trying to make a joke of things."

 

He smirked and leaned back, knitting his fingers behind his head and looking for all the world like he was getting comfortable to stay for a while.

 

"I don't know if the people around you are clueless or if they're just leaving you to find your own way through your grief. But you can talk to me. We may never see each other again, and who would I tell?"

 

He shrugged.

 

"Your eyes, Weasley. They're not laughing, even if your mouth is. And your mouth... it looks to me like it's not laughing as much as it used to.

 

He waggled his eyebrows at her.

 

"The _lines_ around it. Merlin, you're exasperating."

 

He merely pursed his lips and winked at her.

 

"You probably experienced the biggest loss in your family. The others lost a brother and a son, but you lost your best friend and your _twin_. You said it yourself, you see him in your own reflection. I think you feel it far more keenly than you let on."

 

He hesitated, but then nodded in acknowledgement and drew a line down his chest.

 

"It broke your heart in half?"

 

He shook his head and cupped one side of the line, shoving the imaginary piece aside.

 

"He was half of your heart?"

 

He made a 'good enough' gesture.

 

"You think you're only half a person?"

 

He nodded and gave her thumbs up.

 

"Dragon dung!"

 

He rolled his eyes at her.

 

"Let me clarify that for you, George Weasley. Raspberry pudding."

 

He shot her a surprised glance.

 

"Oh, please. You think I'd notice your crush on Angelina Johnson and not notice raspberry pudding? You loved it and he hated it. If you're so much the same, then why didn't you enjoy the same dishes?"

 

He drew another line down his chest, making it ragged this time.

 

"Oh, so you say the division was uneven and that accounts for the differences?"

 

He nodded.

 

"Isn't that convenient? You're one person, except you're not the same because the division was uneven. By that logic, maybe you and I are one person too. The looks simply got unevenly divided"

 

He smirked, patting his chest as if his heart was beating fast, and winking at her again.

 

Damn him, he was trying to distract her and she was afraid she might like it.

 

"Look, I know that you were identical on the outside. I know that you were born from one egg. But you're your own person, George. You always were. I mean, if you were the same then why..." She winced. "Why didn't I have a crush on your brother?"

 

He stared at her.

 

Great, he chose now to stop flirting.

 

"A-all I'm saying is... the hole in your heart just means that you loved him. It doesn't mean you only have half a heart or half a soul or can't function without him. You can. You just need to practice how. One day at a time."

 

He kept staring at her.

 

"You don't have to pretend to be fine. I bet that everyone that lo--that cares about you just wants to see you heal. I bet that seeing you like this just hurts them."

 

He stayed silent.

 

She had to get out of there.

 

"So just go home, Weasley. Hug your mother. Be a sobbing mess on the floor. Do whatever you need to do in order to make your next smile actually genuine."

 

She got up and hurried off. It was ridiculous that she should feel this embarrassed and upset. All she'd admitted was that she'd had a crush on him at some point. It was no big deal. Never mind that she was beginning to realise that not only had her fascination been infatuation, but maybe that infatuation had been bigger and lasted longer than expected.

 

Maybe she wasn't quite over it yet.

 

And he was s flirty troublemaker who felt he'd lost part of himself and didn't yet know how to handle that grief. And he was a Weasley. A stupid, stupid Weasley.

 

Could she have made a worse choice?

 

But it hadn't been a choice. Not really. Her eyes had simply been drawn to him and she'd never quite understood why. Not until now.

 

She felt a hand on her arm, not quite grabbing her but halting her. Her heart skipped a beat as she slowly turned back.

 

He gestured to his throat.

 

Oh. Right. Of course that would be it. She undid her spell and fumbled for her sunglasses. The afternoon sun certainly did seem to be stinging her eyes.

 

He effortlessly plucked the sunglasses from her hands and put them in his breast pocket. She stared at him, not quite certain what this was about.

 

"So..." he said, scratching behind his ear. "About kissing that ginger..."

 

Her chest constricted. "Are you making fun of me?"

 

He slowly shook his head. "No. I mean, when I first said it, I didn't think you'd actually _want_ to, but I thought I might as well... try. But then you never came to our shop. Well, except that one time where you didn't even come up and say hi. So... I just thought you weren't interested."

 

"You _saw_ me?"

 

"Of course I saw you. But I didn't figure you'd be shy if you wanted to talk to me."

 

"Oh, Merlin." Her face was burning up.

 

"I was a little confused to see you here, and I suppose I'll have to admit that I'm a mess, but... this has been the best day in quite a while. So even if you don't want to kiss a ginger just yet, you could maybe see the ginger again? Maybe somewhere... less... quiet?"

 

His face was sporting a rather fetching shade of pink as well.

 

Pansy felt her lips widen into a smile as the pressure on her chest eased and she was able to breathe more freely again. Oh, yes. She definitely wanted to kiss a ginger.

 

But first, she wanted to find his smile again.

 

 


End file.
